The Lone 32
by Mek
Summary: A name had the power to change people... he only wished he had one of his own. ::AU, set in the Achluophobia universe::


Notes: Set in the Achluophobia universe. **EDIT**: A small time frame error was found in the beginning of the story. This has now been fixed.  
_Disclaimer: The series Naruto and all of its characters do not belong to me. I am merely borrowing them for the duration of this story, and receive no profit from it._

The Lone 32

He wondered if having a name would make him whole. He watched, day after day, the way his fellow shinobi acted around each other, the different ways they moved to the sound of voices, differing by person, the way they dimmed or brightened by who called them. It was different than normal conversation, and he wondered how many people ever realized the difference. It fascinated him.

Sometimes he would stand in front of a mirror and practice saying different names. Once, it had been to see if he would change, too, just by the speaking of that name. But he did not. He wondered, then, if maybe it was because it was not his name he was calling. He began calling the names, after, pretending it was his own. But none of them ever fit; he knew this because his face never changed.

"Thirtytwo-san," the dark haired girl called him. "What are you doing?"

He turned to look at her, the curiosity bright in her silver eyes.

"I am trying to find my name," he said.

"Your name?" she said, confused.

"My name, Hyuuga-sama," he said firmly.

"But, Thirtytwo-san, you already have a name."

Now he was confused; he had been certain he had not. "I do?"

She nodded, stepping closer. He titled his head towards her even as his eyes slid back to the mirror. "What is it?" He asked. But after she said it, he knew that was not his name either; his face had not changed. He had been certain it was no kind of name at all, but she had made him doubt.

"That is not a name," he told her. "It is only a number."

"You don't have to sound so relieved about it," she said with a frown.

"I am not relieved, I am only speaking the truth."

Her frowned deepened, but she only smoothed out her shirt, and moved towards the open window. "A name is anything you answer to, isn't it?"

"I do not think so," he replied. "A name changes you."

That earned him a smile, though he wasn't sure how or why. He wondered if having a name would fix that for him too.

"Come closer to the window, Thirtytwo-san," Hyuuga-sama ordered. "It is warm out today."

It was spring now, the first spring since Danzou-sama had left him and Orochimaru-sama had said he was his new lord. Things had not changed much, except he was let out into the sun a little more often. He had not been called upon very often, had remained in a small room with only his ink and paper for company. He had settled for drawing the things outside his window, the people who passed below his apartment.

And then, towards the beginning of winter, a man had come to him. He had orders for him, he had said. Orders from Orochimaru-sama. "You are to guard Hyuuga Hinata-sama," this man had told him. "This will be your duty from now on, #32. Keep her safe, and make sure she does not try to escape."

He was not certain why she would try; Orochimaru-sama was her lord too, wasn't he? But he did not say this; he knew better than to speak, so he only nodded.

The man had led him out then, out of his home with only a few moments pause to gather his belongings. "You will not be back," the man had told him. So he had gathered his clothing, his paper, and his ink.

"What about the pictures on the wall?" the stranger had asked.

He had looked at the man. He had not understood. The man had only shook his head.

"Let's go."

The girl had seemed small to him, the first time he had seen her. Fragile, like a bird. The man had talked to him during the walk to her, had told him that she had been shinobi, that her family was dead, that she was an important prisoner. But it was hard for him to see how she had ever been a shinobi. Maybe that was why she was a prisoner now - she had been too weak to be a shinobi.

"Ahh... hello, shinobi-san," she said upon seeing then. Her face was pale, and she looked exhausted, but still... she smiled.

Weak, a voice whispered to him.

"Hello, Hyuuga-sama," the man said.

He was startled at the way the man's face changed when he said her name. It had been firm, hard, but her name made it soften. The man looked calmer, almost relaxed, and he could not understand this reaction. He wondered if this happened to the people he had watched out of his window, people who had been too far away from him to see.

"Shinobi-san," the girl now addressed him, "is something wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, Hyuuga-sama," he said promptly, while the man watched him.

"You may call me Hinata," she said, glancing briefly at the man.

He looked at her, as if she were speaking a foreign tongue.

"#32 has been trained to be an ideal shinobi," the man cut in. Quickly, it seemed to him. "He has never been taught to address his superiors so informally."

She frowned, looking at him. "Does he have a name?"

"He does not need one," the man told her. "If you must call him anything, you may call him 32."

"Thirtytwo," she said, and the number sounded different in her mouth. Almost like a name. And when she looked at him, it was different than the way people usually looked at him. She looked at him the way people usually looked at each other. He felt... real.

The man had left him then, had left both of them. The man had said nothing about a room for him, so he had decided that he must be meant for the room that Hyuuga-sama lived in.

"Which corner am I allowed?" he asked her.

"What do you mean?" she replied, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

"To rest," he clarified. "Which corner?"

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, looking as unsure as a small child. She stared at him in a curious confusion, in bemusement, as if he spoke gibberish. She began to look around the room, a room without windows, a room that was all wall. The faint light coming from the ceiling made her skin more pale, made her eyes gleam.

"Why would you sleep in here?" she asked. "Haven't they given you a room?"

"They have said nothing to me of lodging, only that I must protect you. This must mean I am to remain with you at all times."

He was never to understand the look she gave him then. She only pointed to the corner furthest away from her, and he placed himself there.

He did not stay there very long. Soon after the man had left, a hard-faced kunoichi had entered the room, and stopped short after seeing him there.

"Who are you?" she asked, staring at him in puzzlement.

"I have been sent to protect Hyuuga-sama," he said.

"Oh, for crying out loud..." she said, rolling her eyes. "You weren't supposed to _stay_ in here you little idiot! Get out there!"

He looked at the kunoichi, puzzled. "No one told me that I was not to remain. I was left here, with only the orders to guard Hyuuga-sama."

She frowned, the expression making her fierce. In the corner of his eye, he could see Hyuuga-sama shrinking against the wall. Weak as she may have been, he had orders. He took up a stance between her and the kunoichi.

"Do not threaten her," he told the kunoichi.

She stared at him, incredulous. "Who the fuck do you think you are, to order me like that?"

"I am the one who has been ordered to protect her from all threats. You are a threat."

"Ah... Thirtytwo-san," Hyuuga-sama interrupted. "She is not a threat. She is only here to escort me to the lavatory. Please, stand down."

He looked at her, the edges of his mouth moving downward. "You are afraid of her."

Hyuuga-sama colored. "Ahh... she just looks very fierce to me, Thirtytwo-san. It is nothing to worry over."

"Thirtytwo...?" the kunoichi said, confused. She looked between him and Hyuuga-sama for several moments, before her face lit in recognition. "32! You must have been one of Danzou's." She frowned at him now, and then shook her head. "I had heard... but this is ridiculous. #32, you are meant to stand guard outside this door." She looked outside the room, frowning at nothing. "I can't believe he didn't say anything else..." and her eyes slipped to him, "but it's not like you are a real person."

Hyuuga-sama became as still as the wall she had huddled against. He found that curious.

"#32," the kunoichi ordered, "your post is outside this door. You will go there now and await further instructions."

He was about to question her authority to give him this order when Hyuuga-sama nodded at him. He looked at her for a moment before vacating the room. Neither person looked at him as they passed him by, except for the brief glance Hyuuga-sama gave him. No one had ever looked at him like that before.

The kunoichi gave him no more orders after she returned Hyuuga-sama to her room. So he stood in front of Hyuuga-sama's door and kept his eyes on the darkness of the hall. She would not be harmed on his watch. Sometime later, some stranger came to him and said he was relieved and could rest now. He had was glad, simply because of the exhaustion he felt, but no one had told him where he was to rest. So he curled up near the door and went to sleep.

Things went on like this for many days, and soon he began to fill the long, quiet hours by drawing. But there was so little for him to work with, nothing but shadows and brick, and he soon grew bored. He remembered the people who had been outside of his apartment, and remembered the effects of names, and wondered. So he began to draw that, draw other things from memory.

"Thirtytwo-san, what are you drawing?" he heard Hyuuga-sama ask him one day.

"People," he replied.

"They look strange," she said. "Do you know them?"

"No," he replied. "I've only seem them outside my window." He looked up to see her looking through the door's peephole. He raised the picture up to her. "What do you think?"

She was silent for a moment before responding. "They look happy," she said.

"But do they look real?"

"Of course," she said, sounding surprised. "Why wouldn't they?"

He shrugged. "I am not always sure."

She did not speak for a moment. "Thirtytwo-san," she said hesitantly, "you draw nothing but people. Why?"

"I draw animals, sometimes."

"Oh."

"But people are much more interesting."

She did not respond after that. The only sound was the skritch-scratch of his pen echoing in the emptiness of the hall. How strange, he thought, that she had been banished so far below. He wondered what she would look like under the sun. He wondered if he should ask.

But then he heard the sound of moving clothes, the groaning of a cot, and realized she had returned to bed. He did not ask her.

There was the odd occasion when he would see someone else besides the kunoichi and Hyuuga-sama. There was an older, scarred shinobi who was always in the company of a red haired boy. He thought the boy was his age, but they never exchanged words, so he didn't know. It didn't matter. Then there was the dark haired boy who he often saw sneaking around. The first time he saw him, he had thought the boy was a threat to Hyuuga-sama.

He had had the boy pinned to the ground when Hyuuga-sama stopped the fight. Now the boy glared at him when he snuck passed. He ignored him.

But what stood out for him the most had been an event that had occurred at the end of winter.

The pair of them had been quiet, he remembered. At first he had thought it had been the red haired boy and his guard, but then they had come into the light. He did not recognize them, but he waited to react. He thought they might have been like the dark haired boy, and he did not want to jump to conclusions again. Hyuuga-sama had been most distressed.

"Why are you here?" he had asked before they had more than a foot into the light. In the room behind him, he could hear the rustling of clothes, the shuffling of feet. He knew Hyuuga-sama was coming to the door.

"If you get out of the way, we won't hurt you. We only want Hinata," the shorter one said. He was... fuzzy, for lack of a better word, with markings on his face. The dog at his feet barked, as if in agreement. The sound echoed down the hall; he wondered if it would reach the surface.

He moved into a defensive stance, making sure his weapons were at hand now that he knew their intentions. "I cannot allow that," he told them.

The fuzzy one shrugged, even as the taller companion moved into a stance that mirrored his own. "Suit yourself."

"Thirtytwo-san, don't!"

All three paused at the sound of Hyuuga-sama's voice.

"I cannot let them take you, Hyuuga-sama," he said.

"They won't," she said. "I will not go with them."

"Hinata!" the fuzzy one exclaimed, as the taller person stiffened.

"Kiba-kun, what are you doing here?"

"We're here to get you out," the fuzzy one said, looking with confusion between him and the door.

"Is Shino-kun with you?"

"I'm here, Hinata," the taller one replied.

She was silent for a moment. He could hear her fingers trace the grain of her wooden cell door, even as he held his stance against the two boys here to take her.

"I can't leave," she said finally. "It's important that I stay."

"What do you mean important?! Hinata, you're a prisoner!"

The fuzzy one was no longer paying attention to him, gaze focused completely on the door. The boy's expression was raw, real in a way he had never recalled seeing, until he thought back to the first time he had met Hyuuga-sama. Her expression had been real, had made him feel real, if only for a moment.

Had she made this fuzzy boy, this Kiba, real as well? Is this why the fuzzy one was here now?

"I know, Kiba-kun... but, there is another reason for me to stay."

Her voice had been low, as timid as always, but seeing the fuzzy one's face light up, even briefly, made him wonder - is this the power of a name?

And what would it do to him?

"As long as I am here, Hyuuga-sama will be safe," he said, suddenly, before she could reply. He wondered how often her face changed, if she missed what she had lost.

"Thirtytwo-san..."

"But you're making her stay here!" the fuzzy one exclaimed, scowling at him. "She could be executed any day!"

That had made him freeze, something like dread forming inside him. "Executed?"

"I won't be executed, Kiba-kun," Hyuuga-sama said firmly, voice echoing behind her wooden door.

"You can't know that!" the fuzzy one exclaimed with a desperate glance at her door.

"I can."

"How, Hinata?" the taller one said, placing a hand on the fuzzy one's shoulder.

"I... I have been told, by someone I trust, someone I know, that there is something different for me. I will wait for that... I can be more help there." A pause. "I am not afraid. I have not suffered as much as some."

"But Hinata...!"

"No, Kiba-kun, I am staying. I'm sorry you have wasted your time."

The fuzzy one sputtered, even as he heard her move back to her cot. This conversation was over, and she was not leaving.

"Kiba, we must go. She's not leaving, and it's dangerous to remain for too much longer," the taller one said.

The fuzzy one was angry, so angry he could feel it coming off of him. He wondered if the fuzzy one might still try to rescue her after all, but then the fuzzy one turned his angry face to him.

"If you fail to keep her alive, you will pay for it," the fuzzy one growled.

He nodded. He knew better than to say anything different when he had already won. And he also knew, he could not let someone like her pass on.

He wondered, briefly, what he would do if given execution orders.

The pair of them left as they had arrived - silently. He relaxed.

It wasn't long after that that the same shinobi who had brought him to Hyuuga-sama moved both of them to the third floor.

"She has proved to be a low risk prisoner," he said by way of explanation as he escorted them out of the dark. Yet no move was made to part him from her, and he was glad - he did not want to leave.

And now, now it was almost summer. He looked out the window, below, to the people in the garden. His fingers itched.

"You have not drawn in the past few days," Hyuuga-sama observed. "I thought you enjoyed that."

"I have not wanted to, Hyuuga-sama."

Her eyes strayed to the mirror. "Why not?"

"They..." he paused, unsure how to express himself. He looked at her. "They're real."

She frowned. "So are you."

He was silent.

"You _are_ real, Thirtytwo-san."

"Only real people have names," he said. "I am just a number."

Her eyes shimmered, and she walked up to him. She placed her hand on his arm. "No," she said. "You are my friend."

"I have no name," he said lowly, something indescribable building in his chest at her words, at her touch.

"Then choose one."

"I have been looking," he told her, his eyes on the shinobi in the garden. "But there is nothing for me."

She studied him for a moment, then reached up, cupping his face in her hands. She moved it to the mirror.

"Sai," she said, and his face changed.


End file.
